


Yours

by endoftheline7



Series: A Werewolf's Guide to Courting [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is a Failwolf, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, Post-Season/Series 02 AU, Werewolf Courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4580280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endoftheline7/pseuds/endoftheline7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, so all things considered, maybe leaving Stiles anonymous gifts to show his affection isn't the best idea Derek's had. </p><p>Then again, Stiles is impossible to please, and Derek doesn't know how to use his words, so this is the only thing he can actually do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours

**Author's Note:**

> So this is basically just a companion fic to Be Mine, from Derek's POV. 
> 
> I'm really not sure how long this series will be.

Derek isn't exactly well known for successful relationships.

First, there was Paige. His short but fairly happy relationship with her had ended rather abruptly, leaving him with blue eyes and a broken heart, all thanks to Peter. Then there was Kate. She seduced him with her quick wit and supple curves, mending the shattered pieces of his heart back together again.

She had burned his family alive two months later.

He's had a few one night stands over the years, he didn't remain abstinent, but he's never let anything lead to more than sex. He still had Laura at the time, and he wasn't going to make that same mistake again. To say that Derek has commitment issues would be the understatement of the century- he struggles with trusting anyone. But he worked through it, building a new pack, a new family around him, and letting them worm their way into his heart. He would even go as far as to say that he's fond of Allison now. Pack is different though, and while it requires a high level of intimacy, it's not romantic. The prospect of romance still scares Derek.

Which is why Stiles scares Derek.

He knew he was _attracted_ to Stiles, he _always_ knew that, and after the pool incident he decided to ignore the fact that it had become more than attraction, there were more important things to deal with at the time. But recently, things have settled down. Gerard is dealt with, and Jackson is no longer the Kanima, he's a werewolf who is now reasonably in control due to months of Derek's training. How he feels for Stiles is a whole lot harder to ignore when he's walking around Derek's loft and _laughing_ and _smiling_ at something one of the pack says.

Sometimes he just stands, and indulges himself in staring, looking at the curve of Stiles' mouth, the bend of his nose and the scattering of moles across his body. It's not like Stiles will _notice_ , he may be very perceptive when he wants to be, but when it comes to love, Stiles is oblivious. This is why he allows himself to look, shooting glares at Erica, Isaac and Lydia when they start to snicker.

It's at the end of a pack meeting when he finally snaps. Stiles was late, _again_ , so Derek reprimands him as people start going, telling him to get a watch or _something_. Stiles just rolls his eyes, and makes to leave.

"See you, Sourwolf," he says, giving Derek's shoulder a pat and exiting the loft.

Derek stands, stock still, recalling the sudden spread of warmth he had felt at his shoulder as soon as Stiles touched him. It wasn't in the usual way Stiles touched him, not at all. It wasn't shoving him away, from where he's pressed up against the wall, it wasn't required, due to paralysis or near death situations, it wasn't even an accidental brush past him. It was voluntary, it was subconscious, it was _friendly_. Stiles is comfortable _touching_ him. He forgets that the others are even there, Erica and Boyd apparently staying to help Isaac with a project.

"You okay Derek?" Boyd asks.

"He's fine, he's just all loved up 'cause his boyfriend _touched_ him," Erica says, giggling.

"He's not my _boyfriend,_ " he hisses, marching across the room and stomping up the staircase like a hormonal teenager, ignoring Erica's cackles and Isaac's muffled sniggers. He does, however, acknowledge the low twist of pleasure he feels in his stomach at the idea of _dating_ Stiles.

Wow. He has it worse than he thought. He _wants_ Stiles- a _lot_. And not just sexually, either, although he'd be lying if he said he hadn't jerked off thinking about Stiles countless times before. He sits down at the desk, leaning his chin on his hand, pensive. He's not an idiot, he knows Stiles wants him too. The faint scent of arousal whenever he takes his shirt off around Stiles is unmistakeable, and he recognises Stiles' heartbeat picking up when Derek is close to him.

But those are signs of attraction. Stiles is attracted to him, and that isn't a guarantee of deeper feelings. Stiles still might love Lydia for all he knows. How can he make Stiles want _more_? With _him_. When he was young, his mother had talked to him about all different kinds of werewolf traditions. At around thirteen, if he remembers correctly, she had sat him down and talked to him about courting.

" _Wooing_?" He'd asked in disbelief. "Nobody _does_ that anymore, you just ask someone out."

"In werewolf relationships you do," she'd replied. "It's polite."

"I don't think _I'll_ ever court someone," he'd scoffed.

"You never know, Derek. Just remember, small gifts, gestures, and being thoughtful. They can be an important part of the relationship process."

At the time, he hadn't listened. He'd just humoured her, and pretended to care what she was talking about, not really taking the conversation to heart. He hadn't used that kind of thing when it came to Paige or Kate, either- he kept his intentions with them up front and definite, and they'd responded in kind.

He'd never had any reason to be in that sort of relationship, until now. Maybe that's the right kind of technique when it comes to Stiles, to solidify their relationship, and provoke more feelings on Stiles' part. But _what_? Gifts, gestures, and thoughtfulness. That was all his mother had said before he'd eventually lost his patience and stopped listening. He grabs a pen and paper, and begins to write.

_ Wooing Stiles  _

What _now_? Gifts? He's not even sure what Stiles likes, not entirely.

  * _Food_
  * _Movies_
  * _Comics_
  * _His father_
  * _Scott_
  * _Lydia?_



He feels a bitter sting of jealousy as he writes her name, and puts the pen back to the paper as another idea enters his mind.

  * _Physical contact_



Stiles isn't what Derek would quite call a touchy-feely person, but he does enjoy giving people pats on the back and punches on the arm. He's been known to hug people in the past. Derek is trying to think of more ideas, when he's interrupted by Erica strutting into the room, and he shoots forward, covering the paper with his arms. He must've been seriously distracted if he didn't hear her coming upstairs.

"Hey, so I was just coming up here to tell you that me and Boyd are leaving, I shouted but you didn't hear me," she says.

"Already? I thought you were helping him with a school project? Won't that take a while?" He wonders.

"Not a _school_ project, dumbass. A Scott and Allison project," she explains.

"Oh," he says, shifting a little to hide the paper more. He knows he's screwed when she narrows her eyes.

"What are you hiding?" She probes, taking a step closer.

"Nothing."

"You're a shitty liar, Hale. I don't need super hearing to know that."

He's about to protest in offence, but she takes his momentary distraction as an opportunity, diving toward him and ripping the paper out from underneath his arms. She gasps when she sees it, squealing in delight and gaping wondrously.

" _Erica_ ," he warns, growling.

"You're such a _loser_ , Derek, oh my _god_ ," she says, practically jumping up and down in glee. "You've got it so _bad_!"

"I know," he groans, rubbing his hands over his face. "I don't know what to _do_."

"Well if all else fails, you can just follow your wolf instincts," she suggests. She leans down, and kisses him on the cheek. With that, she's flouncing off downstairs and out of the loft to Boyd's car, where she will inevitably tell him about Derek's list.

He drops his head onto the desk and sighs.

 

* * *

 

He tries not to think about it over the next couple of weeks.

Stiles isn't really around him much, due to the lack of malevolent supernatural beings, and he resents the fact that he misses him to the point of hoping that there's some sort of massacre that would result in a pack meeting. He's too nervous to do a pack movie night, and if there was a meeting about a bloodbath or something, it would be _required_. He couldn't wimp out of seeing Stiles then. Isaac rolled his eyes when Derek mumbled about not having a movie night and texted everyone about having one anyway.

"So, I'll see you at Jungle then?" Erica asks Isaac, as she opens the loft door, preparing to leave. Thank god Erica is going- he's just woken up, it's way too early to deal with her at the moment.

" _Yes_ , Erica. And don't worry, I'll wear my tightest jeans. I'm not _completely_ clueless," Isaac replies.

"You could've fooled me," she says sweetly, shutting the door behind her.

Isaac rolls his eyes and flops onto the sofa, picking up the remote.

"Why are you going to Jungle?" Derek questions, amused.

"Some of the pack are going. It's not really a pack _thing_ , but Danny's kinda heartbroken, so some of them are trying to cheer him up. I'm not that close to Danny, you know?" He says, shrugging. "But Allison's gonna be there. Erica's making me come."

"Oh. Um, who else is going?" He asks innocently.

"Stiles will be there, if that's what you're asking."

"No! I, I wasn't..." He snarls.

Isaac raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

"You aren't as good as hiding it as you might think, Derek."

Derek is about to snap back at him, but sees Isaac channel surfing and munching Cheetos, and decides that he isn't really interested in Derek's arguments, and therefore not worth it. He sighs, leaning back against the counter, thinking of Stiles at the club later. Sweaty, drunk, having fun. The almost dreamy smile that he has on his face is replaced by a frown as he imagines other people noticing Stiles, buying him drinks, checking him out. He tries and fails not to picture other people _dancing_ with Stiles.

His wolf _yearns_ just to _claim_ , to _mark_ , to _take_. His knuckles turn white as he grips the counter, overwhelmed with jealousy and longing, the possessiveness he feels almost too much to handle. Erica had said it was okay to listen to his instincts, right? He isn't going to barge into Jungle and ruin Stiles' night or anything, he may be a werewolf, but he's mostly person, meaning that he has enough self control not to act like a _complete_ dick to win Stiles over.

When evening comes, he runs to Stiles' house, and scales the tree next to his room. Stiles is in there, pulling a t-shirt on and grabbing his wallet and phone. Derek feels a little cheated at only just missing the chance to see Stiles shirtless, although it _would_ be a bit creepy. When he's sure that Stiles is gone, he shifts, disappearing into the shadows and running to the woods. There, he allows his animal senses to fully take over, clinging to the desperation he feels at the image of Stiles with someone else. He spends a while just looking, searching for the perfect animal to bring Stiles, proving his capability to provide for him.

If he weren't in wolf form right now, he'd probably think through the fact that Stiles doesn't really care about that kind of thing. But he _is_ in wolf form. He's not thinking with his human instincts, he's thinking as a wolf.

So when he sees a stag, the first thing he does is lunge, tearing out it's throat, ripping at it until it's dead. He drags it by it's antlers to Stiles' house, leaving a trail of blood in it's wake. Dumping it on the porch in a heap, he sits back and admires his work. A part of him wants to stay, to see how Stiles feels about it, but he decides to go home and wait until the next night to gauge his reaction. When he walks in, Isaac is already home.

"Where were you?" He asks. "Did you decide to go out last minute?"

"Um, yeah."

"You smell weird," Isaac says, wrinkling his nose.

"Fine, I'll take a shower," Derek replies before Isaac can detect the smell of forest and dead animal.

That night, in the darkness and privacy of his room, with a fist crammed in his mouth to muffle his moans, he beats off thinking about what could happen with Stiles tomorrow.  

 

* * *

 

Derek hasn't always been an early riser.

As a child, he _hated_ getting up early. Once he started being plagued by nightmares after the fire, however, he got used to it.

Which is why he isn't surprised when he wakes up at the crack of dawn, burning with anticipation for later. _Jesus_ , Derek is in his _twenties_ , and he's acting like a teenager with a crush. When he listens into the next room, the pace of Isaac's heartbeat is slow and steady, his breathing evened out, indicating that he's probably still asleep. Derek sighs, and reluctantly pulls himself out of bed, going downstairs and getting some breakfast. He stays in the loft for the next few hours, trying to distract himself, which is harder than he originally thought, especially seeing as Isaac is _still_ sleeping.

Eventually, he can't take it any longer, and, deciding to take the car this time, drives to Stiles' house and parks a few streets away. He sees that the stag is gone, meaning that Stiles probably got it- the Sheriff was on the late shift last night, which suggests that Stiles was the one who discovered it. When he climbs the tree outside his room, he peers around a branch to see Stiles lying awake in bed, trying to go back to sleep and failing.

Ten minutes later, he finally groans, getting up to go downstairs, and Derek doesn't know how long he'll be down there, so he doesn't waste any time. He snatches up a bird from the tree, biting down on it's neck and arranging it on the windowsill. Leaping down from the window, he makes his way to the Camaro and back to the loft.

After a day of constant worrying, when Derek picks up on Stiles' scent nearby, he almost has a heart attack. What does he do? How is he supposed to _act_? His inner turmoil is interrupted by Stiles and Scott entering the loft, and Scott grins and practically _skips_ over to Isaac, leaving Stiles and Derek alone.

"So, um, can I ask you something?" Stiles says, walking closer to where Derek is standing. It's a conscious effort for Derek not to bury his face in his neck and inhale.

"Yes," he forces his mouth to say.

"Is there anything supernatural in town at the moment? Apart from you guys, I mean. Something that would, I dunno, kill animals and leave them in your house?" Stiles asks.

So he doesn't know it's Derek then. Maybe he should just hint?

"No, there's only werewolves in town right now."

"Ugh, then _what_ is going on? It's so _weird_. There was a dead stag on my porch last night, and a dead bird at my window this morning," Stiles exclaims.

Weird? Is weird good? Derek decides to just ask outright.

"Did you like them?" He asks, hope pounding through his veins.

" _What_? _No_. Ew. They were disgusting. And it made me feel bad," Stiles replies.

Oh.

"Oh," he says.

"Any ideas as to what could be going on?"

Stiles doesn't like them. He doesn't want them. He doesn't want _Derek_.

"No," he chokes out, feeling despair and disappointment bubble up inside him.

"Hey, that's okay. I'll figure it out. So what movies are we watching tonight?"

Derek can't find any words to answer him with, so instead, chooses to storm upstairs and away from Stiles. How could he have been such an _idiot_? What did he really _expect_ by leaving mangled animals for Stiles? He was thinking with his wolf, but Stiles _isn't_ a wolf. Of _course_ he didn't like them, Stiles is a _person_.

He realises he's pacing and unintelligibly mumbling under his breath when he hears Scott and Isaac start to laugh, and comes to a stop, glaring at the floor. What do _people_ like? Romantically, that is. There's not much use thinking of it now, while the whole pack are here, so he puts that aside to ponder later. What can he do _now_? There's not exactly much you can convey through _movies_ , unless... Unless they're romance films.

He perks up a bit, going back downstairs and picking out the most romantic movies that him and Isaac have. Sadly, but also predictably, there isn't much to choose from. Once everyone is comfortably settled in front of the television, people begin groaning at Derek's movie selection. He's a little disheartened to see that Stiles is one of them, but sits up straighter, deciding to not let that deter him. He's pressed himself up against Stiles on the couch, as close as humanly possible, and knows his heart is beating faster than usual because of it. Thankfully, none of the pack comment on this.

He can't help but let his eyes stray to Stiles during the movie, sweeping over his face, memorising the line of his jaw, the moles on his neck and cheeks, and the way his throat bobs when he swallows. Stiles notices after a while, and swivels to look at him.

"What?" Stiles whispers, confused by Derek's staring.

Derek doesn't say anything in reply, just shakes his head, embarrassed at being caught, and watches the rest of the movie.

The pack obviously know about the staring, too, if their amused looks are anything to go by.

They don't comment on that, either.

 

* * *

 

It's been a few days since the incident, and Derek is sulking.

He'd spent all of Monday in bed, moping, not having to make excuses to Isaac because of school, and wondering what he could do next. Sure he has a list, but it was just of stuff that Stiles _liked_ , not _actual_ ideas. Disappointingly, he'd come up short. Now a few days later, he's shopping, stocking up on groceries, when he sees it.

Valentine's Day was only a few weeks ago, and evidently, the store still hasn't taken their display down. There isn't much left, just a few boxes of chocolates and teddy bears, but it hits Derek instantly. This. _This_ is what _humans_ do to woo people. Of course. All he has to do is buy some of this stuff and give it to Stiles, and he'll _understand_. He grabs some chocolates and a bear, stuffing them into his shopping cart. He finishes shopping, and feels himself flush when he gets to the counter, keeping his head down.

He finally looks up, however, when the girl behind the counter clears her throat.

"There's um, there's a good florists round the corner from here," she says, nodding knowingly at the chocolates and the teddy. "Ask for Katie, and say Mandy sent you. She'll get you a good deal."

"Thank you," he mumbles, picking up his bags.

"Just helping out," she replies, smiling at him, and handing him his receipt.

He stays sat in the car for a while, contemplating. People _like_ flowers, right? Would _Stiles_ like flowers? He gets his phone out and texts Erica, asking her opinion, and it buzzes with a reply within a few minutes.

_Yeah, I'm sure he likes flowers. Better than dead animals anyway_ _._

He scoffs, typing an answer.

_Screw u_

She responds straight away.

_Xx_

Rolling his eyes, he puts his phone away and drives, stopping when he reaches the florist. When he gets inside, he sees that the woman at the counter is wearing a name tag that says 'Katie'.

"Uh, Mandy sent me?"

The woman's face splits into a smile. "Ah, another one. What's the situation? An anniversary? A belated valentines present?"

"Courting."

"Well, that's a new one," she says, blinking.

"Can you help me or not?" He grumbles.

"I can help you," she says, and narrows her eyes. "Is there a specific type of flower you're looking for?"

"Um... Roses?" He suggests, brushing his fingers against a yellow rose next to him.

"Okay, roses. But not yellow." She wrinkles her nose, and turns, going through a door to what Derek supposes is a back room.

So, a half hour later, Derek is placing a bouquet of pink and red roses and a box of chocolates on Stiles' bed. He decides to leave them anonymous, just in case Stiles doesn't like them. The teddy he'd bought is at the bottom of a drawer somewhere in the loft- he'd felt silly when he'd actually seen it, holding some stupid red heart that says 'Be Mine'. Standing back, he looks at the gifts and smiles. Maybe Stiles _won't_ like them, but he's certain that he'll appreciate them more than the animals.

He jumps out of the window, and heads home, trying not to imagine Stiles' reaction.  

 

* * *

 

Isaac is out at Erica's, being given more tips on seducing Scott and Allison, when the loft door bangs open, and Scott barges in.

"You're _courting_ him!" Scott shouts, storming over to the couch where Derek is sat.

"Yes," he replies, standing up and facing Scott.

" _Why_? Is this some sick _joke_? Are you making _fun_ of him? I know you two never used to get along Derek, but you're _pack_ now, and you can't treat him like this!" Scott spits out, giving Derek a shove.

"It's not a joke," he mumbles, feeling his face heat up.

"It's not _funny_ \- wait," Scott falters, frowning. "It's _not_ a joke?"

"No."

"Oh," Scott says, a grin inching it's way onto his face. "You... You _like_ him."

"Yes," he admits.

"That's so gross!" Scott says, laughing. "Ew, you and _Stiles_."

"Shut up," he pushes past Scott, walking to the fridge to get himself a drink.

"Aw, Derek, I had no idea!"

"That's because you're completely clueless about _everything_ , Scott," he says, spinning around, soda in hand. "Did you tell him what was going on?"

"What? No. I read those books Deaton gave me on packs and werewolves and stuff. I'm not allowed, right?"

"Right," Derek says approvingly. Then, he hesitates. "Um... What did he think? Of the gifts? Did he... Like them?"

"I don't know. I mean, I think he was just really confused and too freaked out to have a normal reaction, you know?"

"I suppose that's better than last time," he sighs.

"Last time? What- _oh_. The animals. That was _you_ ," Scott realises. "Oh, Derek, _man_. You're _hopeless_."

"Whatever," he grumbles.

Scott snorts a laugh. "I better go, anyway. Nice try!" He shouts, and bounds over to the door, giving Derek a wave and letting himself out.

Derek sighs.

Hopefully nobody else knows.

 

* * *

 

Jackson knows.

He hasn't said it outright, but it's fairly fucking obvious. Scott must've told him- either that or it was Erica or Boyd, which he doubts.

Lydia has apparently organised some pack bowling night, which he _has_ to go to, according to Erica. Disgruntled but persuaded, he agrees. At least he'll get to see Stiles, right?

Wrong.

When he gets there, everyone is there _but_ Stiles. He asks Scott but just gets "detention" in reply. He must look pretty pissed off, so Jackson uses his hands to mime a heart breaking, and wipes away imaginary tears.

"Heartbroken?" Jackson hisses in his ear, grinning, while Derek puts on his bowling shoes.

"Fuck off, Jackson."

"Maybe if you go and pick some flowers, he'll turn up?" Jackson suggests, looking smug.

Derek stiffens.

"No, I'm sorry man, that was mean, especially as I know what you're capable of. I don't want to _court_ death."

Derek feels his eyes widen, and blood rushes to his face. He's about to snap back at him, but Jackson is already gone, sitting opposite him with an arm around Lydia, winking. He glares, scuffing his shoes on the ground. There isn't much he can do to retaliate without drawing everyone's attention, so he does the only thing he _can_ do.

He does the only thing a mature, adult, responsible alpha werewolf can do.

He sticks his tongue out.

Jackson practically _vibrates_ with laughter, trying to keep silent, pressing his mouth together and screwing his eyes shut. Lydia gives him a questioning look, but he waves her away. Derek sits there, glowering and moody for the next hour, only getting up when it's his turn. He's so distracted by his brooding that he doesn't recognise the familiar scent and heartbeat of Stiles as he arrives.

"Hey Stiles!" He hears Erica shout, and his head shoots up. He ignores Jackson when he giggles at this.

Stiles sits down next to him and waves to Erica as Derek's bad mood is lifted, to the point where he has to force a smile back at Stiles' presence.

"Stiles. You're late," he greets.

"Yeah, didn't Scott tell you? Harris gave me detention, the douche. Honestly, I have no idea why the school hired a sadist as their chemistry teacher," Stiles jokes.

He can't help the snort that escapes his mouth at Stiles' usual brand of humour, and tries to cover it up and act like it didn't happen. Stiles definitely notices though, and grins at him.

"Is he giving you a hard time?" He prods.

"He's always giving me a hard time," Stiles says. "He hates me."

He feels his face darken at this. Who is this _asshole_ who thinks he can give _Stiles_ a hard time?

"Hm," he says, already thinking of ways that he can scare this guy shitless.

"Wow, that doesn't sound suspicious at _all_. What are you planning?"

Derek doesn't reply, and Stiles scoffs and rolls his eyes at this, turning away to watch Scott fail some more. They sit in companionable silence until it's Stiles' go.

"I suck at bowling," he sighs, getting up. Derek looks up at him hopefully.

"Do you want me to help you?" He casually offers. Well, what he _thinks_ is casually, anyway. His wolf is clamouring _yesyessayyesplease_ and his heart is hammering in his chest.

"Well- I... I don't mind," Stiles replies indifferently.

"Neither do I," he says, jumping up from where's he's sitting. And that's a _lie_ , it's a lie and everyone knows it. Of _course_ he minds.

"Okay, well... Thanks, I guess," Stiles says, grinning and preparing to throw the ball.

Derek takes a deep breath, and presses up behind him, teaching him how to bend his arm just right so he'll get a strike. Well, he _hopes_  he is, but he's not really paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth at the moment, not when he's snug against Stiles' back, able to feel every shift and muscle of his body. He tunes out everybody's hushed giggling and desperately tries to stop his blood from flowing south. He steps back from Stiles as soon as possible.

"Do you think you've got it now?" He hears himself ask, low and hoarse.

"Yeah. Thanks man," Stiles says, swivelling around to face him. And Derek can't help it. He does what he always does when they're in close proximity- looks at Stiles' lips. He found out a long time ago that he can't stare into Stiles' eyes for very long, they're just _too_ pretty, and multiple times before, Derek has had to physically restrain himself from doing something stupid like kissing him because of this.

He shuffles backwards, clearing his throat awkwardly and sitting down.

After he's won the game, he refuses Lydia when she asks him to buy alcohol, but has to change his mind when Jackson raises his eyebrows and looks at Stiles pointedly.

"Does anyone need a ride?" He asks when everyone starts leaving, getting into the Camaro with Isaac.

"Yep," Erica says, dragging Boyd by the arm and into the backseat.

There's enough space for someone else, and Derek can't help but look at Stiles, can't help but wish for him to agree. He doesn't, of course. Just waves him away, joining Scott and Allison as they start to walk home. Derek supposes his face mirrors Isaac's as they both watch wistfully while the three of them turn the corner.

"So, Derek. You and Stiles were very intimate tonight," Erica states, smiling, as he drives them home.

"Shut up,"

"No. I'd like to hear about it. How much of a boner did you have when you were pressed up against him?"

Isaac starts giggling at this, and when Derek glances in the mirror he sees Boyd silently laughing next to Erica, who's smirking at him expectantly, baiting him. He grips the wheel tighter in annoyance, making it creak. Why the hell did he pick these three for his pack?

"It was only a semi," he admits.

The shocked screeches of laughter are so loud that they drown out the noise of the engine.

 

* * *

 

After some digging, which he sadly had to do without Stiles, he finds the address of Adrian Harris, his chemistry teacher.

He hopes it's the right one, which is likely considering that there probably aren't that many in Beacon Hills. He knocks on the door, and doesn't have to wait very long before a man opens it. Feeling a vague recognition for him, he supposes that Harris could've taught him when he was in high school.

"Hi, um, Adrian Harris?" He asks, putting on a smile.

"Yes?"

"You teach chemistry at Beacon Hills High School, right?" Derek questions, and when Harris nods he feels victorious. "Do you mind if I come in? I have a few chemistry related questions I'd like to ask."

Harris looks hesitant, but relents, standing to the side and allowing him in. As soon as the door is shut, Derek shoves him front first against the wall, pinning his arms behind his back.

"Wha- what did I do? What have I done, I-"

"Stiles Stilinski," Derek hisses in his ear, getting straight to the point.

Harris freezes up, and then Derek _knows_ that he knows exactly what he does to Stiles.

"You're gonna be a lot nicer to him from now on, you understand?" He says, gripping his wrists harder.

"I-I..."

" _You understand_?" Derek repeats, growling.

"Yes! Yes, I understand, I swear, I'm sorry..." He stammers. 

"Good," he says, releasing him. "I better not hear anymore complaints about your treatment of him."

"Of course, I'm sorry, of course-" Harris babbles, staying against the wall.

Derek steps back, waits until Harris looks at him, and allows his eyes to flash red. He can't help the burning satisfaction he feels when he sees tears spring to Harris' eyes as he looks at Derek, horrified. He lets himself out, smirking as he exits the house.

He probably should've realised that this gesture wouldn't stay anonymous when Stiles corners him after the next pack meeting.

He's just tipped back his drink when Stiles asks "did you tell Harris to be nice to me?", and it takes everything he has not to splutter.

"Yes," he admits sheepishly.

" _Why_?"

"You said he was giving you a hard time. I made him stop," he responds, frowning. Did Stiles not want him to?

"Yeah, but why did you do _that_?" Stiles probes.

"We're pack," Derek says. It's not technically a _lie_ , they _are_ pack. But that isn't _just_ why he did it.

"Yeah, okay. Thank you, by the way. I appreciate it," he replies.

"So he _was_ nicer to you?"

"Yeah, he was. When I asked him about it, he said that you _convinced_ him. By convinced, did he mean that you scared the shit out of him?" Stiles asks, grinning.

Derek smiles at the memory.

"Yeah. He almost cried."

He's worried he's gone too far when Stiles' mouth drops open, and maybe he has. What he'd done to Harris _was_ a little mean, and now he realises that maybe he didn't deserve to be treated _that_ harshly.

However, he sees that it's amusement that made Stiles react the way he did, and decides that it's all worth it when he gets to see the way that Stiles' eyes crinkle when he laughs up close.

 

* * *

 

_He likes comics_

Is the text that he receives almost a week later. When he checks, he sees that it's from Scott, and wonders if it's creepy that he already knows that, despite Stiles never telling him personally. But still, he guesses that this means he has Scott's blessing, and smiles. He pulls on his jacket, heading to the comic store, and purchases a few vouchers, ignoring the confused looks he gets. Okay, so he doesn't really fit into the comic book fan stereotype, but _still_. It's kind of rude.

When he reaches Stiles' house, he tuts when he climbs through his window, which is wide open. _Really_ , it's alright to leave it unlocked, but _wide_ open? They live in _Beacon Hills_ , it's _dangerous_. He notices a few textbooks spread out on Stiles' desk, and tucks the vouchers into one of them, hoping that Stiles will study tomorrow and see them.

And apparently, he does.

_Will b home l8, out with stiles_

Isaac texts him the next day, and he frowns down at his phone.

_Where?_

It's not long before he gets a reply.

_Comic store. C u later_

So Stiles _did_ get them. None of his gifts for him really seem to be working, so he hopes this went differently. It _seems_ like Stiles had liked them, seeing as he's at the comic store. He better not ask anyone who bought the vouchers, Derek wasn't exactly inconspicuous.

Once he hears the familiar rumble of the jeep a few hours later, he's relieved to find out that Stiles _hasn't_ asked. He would definitely know by now if Stiles had figured out that it was him, he'd be up here asking Derek why the hell he did it. He manages to resist the urge to listen in on the conversation he's having with Isaac, but almost dies of impatience while waiting for him to come up. Finally, he hears footsteps, and the door open.

"Have a good time?" He asks Isaac as he walks in.

"Yeah, it was pretty great. Stiles said I could come over anytime to read some of them," he says, beaming, and flopping down on the sofa opposite Derek. "I asked him to come up, but he didn't want to. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Why did you suddenly decide to go to the comic book store?"

"Well Stiles found some vouchers in his textbook and wanted to spend them, so I asked if I could come," Isaac explains.

"He just... Found them?" He questions. _God_ , he hopes he isn't obvious.

"Yeah, it was kinda weird," Isaac says, shrugging. "Stiles probably would've been more curious if he weren't so happy about it."

Happy. Stiles was _happy_ about it. Stiles _liked_ them.

"Are you actually smiling _just_ because you're imagining Stiles being happy?" Isaac groans, peering at him in disgust. "I feel sick."

"Then you won't want any dinner, I'm guessing. Don't worry, I'll throw it away," he says, standing up.

"Woah, woah, I feel better now!" Isaac declares, stopping him before he can reach the kitchen. Derek smirks and Isaac shoves him.

"It's in the microwave, you can heat it up," he says, going back to where he was sitting.

"Thanks Derek," Isaac replies, and walks away, leaving Derek basking in the news of Stiles' reaction.

He _liked_ them.

 

* * *

 

One Thursday, the door to the loft opens to reveal Peter. He pushes past Derek as soon as he opens the door, not giving him a chance to react.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Derek asks. "Go away."

"No. I need to talk to you."

"About _what_?"

"Word on the street has it that you're courting the Stilinski boy," Peter replies, standing and facing him defiantly.

"How do you even find out these things?" He questions.

"Excessive stalking," Peter explains, and looks affronted when Derek seems alarmed. "What? You all call me creepy anyway, so why not live up to it?"

Derek scoffs. "Why do you care about what's going on with me and Stiles?"

"My dear nephew, I'm only taking an interest in you, my precious-"

" _Peter_."

"Fine. I have some... Advice. Although I suppose you could say i'm outright helping you," he answers.

A creased piece of paper is suddenly handed to him, and it seems to be some kind of a list, written in scribbled and rushed handwriting. Derek rolls his eyes and leans against the table, raising an eyebrow at Peter. He looks back stubbornly, crossing his arms.

"What is _this_?" Derek asks, waving it at him.

"A recipe."

"A recipe for disaster?"

"Wha- _no_ , Derek. It's a recipe for _cupcakes_. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, right?"

"Why are you giving me this?" He says, frowning.

"I know you can cook pretty well, but your baking is _abysmal_. It only flourishes under detailed instructions."

"Peter, I _know_. That's not what I was asking."

"Can't I just be interested in my nephew's happiness?" Peter wonders, looking offended.

"No."

" _Fine_. I thought that... If you're with the Sheriff's son, then..." He hints.

"If I date the Sheriff's son you think that you won't get into as much trouble for your criminal activities?" Derek suggests, and Peter sighs, nodding. "You thought wrong. You know what? I'll make sure you get into even _more_ trouble."

"Give it back then," Peter says, looking murderous. "If you won't help, then you have to give it back."

"No, I don't think I will."

Peter opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by Derek putting the paper down and grabbing him, pushing him outside and shutting the door.

"Bye Peter! Always a pleasure to see you!" He shouts.

Peter growls, storming off, while Derek smirks.

He glances at the paper, noting that it looks legitimate, and folds it, putting it the pocket of his jacket and pulling it on. Picking up his keys, he heads for his car, knowing that he won't run into Peter, who's probably long gone by now. He feels a little bad at the prospect of breaking into Stiles' house, but is both relieved and annoyed when he finds that he's left his window open. While he's at _school_. Derek makes plans to lecture him about this one day.

He ends up a little short for time, and gets away seconds before the jeep pulls up. Derek had tried one of the cupcakes, and it tasted pretty good, which means that there's probably no way for this to go wrong.

It goes wrong.

Of _course_ it goes wrong.

Well, okay, not _wrong_ , but it doesn't work out as planned. Stiles doesn't realise that they're from Derek seeing as he's forgotten to use his words, _again_ , and doesn't come running to him when he finds them. He gets a text from Jackson later, saying that Stiles called _Lydia_ about some mysterious cupcakes, thinking that they were _poisoned_. Derek groans in defeat, rubbing his face. Will he ever just _get_ it?

Isaac bounds in, looking dishevelled and ecstatic, as Derek glares at his phone in irritation.

"What's up with you?" Isaac asks, almost breathless.

"What's up with _you_?" Derek repeats, motioning to his rumpled state.

"Love," Isaac sighs dreamily. Derek frowns. Are all teenage boys like this? He thinks it's just Isaac.

"Yeah, well. Same here," he answers. "Believe me, Isaac, I'm pretty sure it's the sex that's got you like this. I'm guessing you finally got together with Scott and Allison?"

"Yep," Isaac grins. "And Erica didn't help at _all_ , I feel kinda bad about all the time she wasted."

He carries on rambling about how amazing Scott and Allison are, but Derek tunes him out, feeling sour.

Isaac got the guy _and_  the girl, Derek didn't get anything.  

 

* * *

 

He feels the strange kind of awkwardness that he hasn't felt since his teenage years when he smells Stiles at the store.

Seeing your crush in unexpected places. It's just as unpleasant as he remembers.

This time, he can't stop himself from listening in, innocently pushing his shopping cart around until he gets to the aisle next to Stiles'.

"Dad! _No_! Your c-"

"My cholesterol, Stiles, I _know_. That's the millionth time you've said it," John complains.

"Exactly, you know. So, we're getting foods low in cholesterol and fat," Stiles argues.

"What foods are they?"

"I'm... Not sure. But we'll figure it out."

The Sheriff protests more as they walk away, but Derek is hit with an idea. What Stiles wants, is for his dad to be healthy. Derek can try to help.

He cashes in his items, aware that Stiles is still wandering around with his dad somewhere, and quickly googles his question. When he clambers in Stiles' window, for what Derek thinks is the hundredth time these past couple of months, he tears out a blank page from some notebook he finds lying around, and scrawls a list onto the paper. He hears a car draw up at the house, and leaps out of sight, into the thick leaves on the tree, glad that he remembered to park the Camaro further away.

A fond smile rests on his face when Stiles walks into his room, muttering under his breath about how irresponsible his father is, but is jolted away when he hears a gasp and a thump. He jumps up to the window, worried, but relaxes once he sees that Stiles is okay, but... On the floor, for some reason.

"Why are you on the floor?" He asks.

"Just... Exercise," Stiles says. Derek doesn't have to listen to his heartbeat to know that it's complete bullshit, and his face must show this because Stiles relents, and answers him truthfully. "Look, I was just... Freaked out. I fell."

"That sounds far more likely," he replies wryly.

"Rude," Stiles mutters, giving him a dirty look and standing up, moving to sit on his bed. Derek notices that he's fiddling with the list.

"What's that?"

"It's a list. Of recommendations. For foods my dad should eat. I just found it here on my pillow when we got back from grocery shopping."

"Oh," Derek says, trying to appear nonchalant.

"That's why I was freaked out. Who _does_ that? Eavesdrops on people when they're talking to their fathers, and comes into their room and leaves them stuff? It's _creepy_. I think I'm being stalked," he jokes.

"I doubt you're being _stalked_ ," he snaps.

It doesn't mean to come out. At least, not like that. It's just... He isn't _stalking_ Stiles, he's not _Peter_. He's aware that he's creepy sometimes, but he never thought Stiles thought of him like _that_. When he realises what he's said, he feels his cheeks go pink, and stares at the floor, embarrassed.

"I just... I mean, maybe I- ... _somebody_ overheard, by chance, and decided to help you out," Derek amends.

"Yeah, maybe. I'm not denying that it's nice, you know? Because I appreciate it, I really do. I'm totally clueless about my dad's diet. But I'm a little confused. This isn't the first time this has happened, I've been getting loads of random gifts over the past couple of weeks, and I just... I'm just really out of my depth right now."

Derek softens. Stiles isn't being mean on _purpose_ , he just doesn't _get_ it yet.

"I'm sure you'll understand soon."

"I hope so."

Derek hopes so too.

 

* * *

 

Isaac is having some sex marathon with Scott and Allison _again_ , leaving Derek alone with his thoughts. He supposes this is what he signed up for when he took a teenager in.

He didn't sign up for the _descriptions_ of the sex, in _detail_ , however.

Damn Isaac.

He's putting away the laundry, when he finds the teddy that he'd bought for Stiles, stuffed at the bottom of a drawer. Taking it out, he stares at it, contemplative. Maybe he _should_ give this to Stiles after all? The door opening breaks him out of his reverie, and he glances up to see Boyd.

"Is Isaac here? He's not answering his phone, and I just passed by so..."

"He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"He's dating Scott and Allison now. They're probably round Scott's," Derek explains.

"That does make sense," Boyd says. "Just, tell him I stopped by, yeah? We need to make plans, we haven't done anything in a while."

"Sure."

"Oh, and uh, by the way? You should give Stiles the bear. I'm sure he'll like it," he replies, winking, leaving before Derek can say anything.

He chucks the teddy at the closing door, knowing that Boyd can hear the quiet thump as it hits it. Sighing, he picks it up again, tucking it away back into the drawer and deciding to do something with it the next day while Stiles is at school. When Isaac gets back, he prays that he doesn't find it.

He'd never let him live it down.

Thankfully, Isaac _doesn't_ find it, and tells Derek that he'll be out with Boyd later before he heads to school. Derek follows a few hours later, and sniffs out Stiles' locker straight away. When he gets there, he realises that he's either going to have to break in, or text Scott. He opts for the latter.

_Do you know stiles locker combination?_

He has to hover awkwardly by the locker until Scott finally replies.

_Wtf why_

Clenching his jaw in impatience, he punches out a response.

_Why do u think? Just tell me._

So when Scott actually answers him, he opens the locker, and places the bear inside on top of a pile of books, where he knows Stiles' will see it. Finally, he gets out of the school, grateful that nobody saw him, and drives home, hoping that he'll like it.

 

* * *

 

Hearing Stiles' heartbeat when he's the only one in the loft is unexpected.

He's reading a book he found lying around, but drops it as soon as he's alerted to Stiles' presence, sprinting to the door and throwing it open, revealing Stiles, his hand raised to knock.

"Stiles."

"How did you know I was here? I was just about to knock, dude."

"I heard your heartbeat. I'm a werewolf, remember," he explains.

"How did you know it was _my_ heartbeat?" Stiles asks, looking confused.

Shit.

"I- there was your scent, too," he adds, embarrassed.

Stiles gives him appraising look, so Derek speaks before he can say anything else.

"Do you, um, do you want to come in? Isaac is out with Boyd somewhere," he says, moving aside as quick as possible to let Stiles in.

"Sure," Stiles agrees, making eye contact as he smiles at him. Derek literally feels himself _melt_ and really wishes he weren't so obvious. Stiles still seems oblivious, however.

"Do you wanna watch a movie or something?" He manages to ask.

"Yeah okay. What've you got?"

He points at the small section of movies, and waits for Stiles to pick one out. He does, and Derek is surprised to see it's the same one that Isaac has been trying to make him watch for months.

"Isaac keeps trying to get me to watch that."

"Good for Isaac," he remarks. "We're watching it, come on."

Stiles puts the DVD in and sits down on the sofa, looking up at Derek expectantly, gesturing for him to do the same. So he does, as close as he possibly can without him suspecting, disappointed that Stiles didn't choose to sit on the loveseat. Stiles starts the movie, and Derek is _gone_. Sitting so close to Stiles for an hour is too much, and he's almost certain that he notices Derek looking at him every few minutes, constantly fidgeting in nervousness. Eventually, Stiles pauses the movie, turning toward him. Derek does the same.

"Are you courting me?" Stiles says.

Derek hears himself make a choked noise, his cheeks flushing crimson.

"I- um... Yeah. Sorry," he sighs miserably. He didn't mean for Stiles to find out yet.

"Hey, I'm not asking for an apology. Why didn't you just _tell_ me how you felt though? Why go to the trouble of all the gifts?" Stiles wonders.

"I'm no _good_ with words. And my mom always told me that if I wanted to woo someone then I had to court them properly. I think it's a werewolf thing," he explains.

"I can't believe you were _wooing_ me. I had no idea!"

"Do you still think it's creepy?" Derek asks.

"No. It was creepy when I thought it was some random stranger. But it was only you," he says, snorting, before a look of realisation dawns on his face. "Oh my god, Scott totally _knew_ , I hate him. Did _everyone_ know?"

"Not everyone. Erica and Boyd knew before I'd even _started_ , and Scott and Jackson figured it out later. That was it, I think. Although I'm pretty sure they all knew how I felt about you," he admits, a little embarrassed at how bad he was at hiding his feelings.

Oh, how he misses the days when they all thought he was emotionless. That all went out of the window when he had to go and get feelings for _Stiles_.

"Yeah, well im not surprised about _that_ , you're totally obvious. I don't know how I didn't see it," he says, and Derek huffs. Thanks Stiles, make it _worse_ why don't you. "Wait, how did Erica and Boyd know _before_?"

"Um, they saw the list I was making. Of ideas. On how to woo you," he confesses, blushing.

"You made a list of ideas?" Stiles practically squeals.

"Shut up, Stiles."

"Make me," he dares.

Easiest way to make someone shut up? Kiss them.

So he tilts forward, pressing their lips together gently, making them both gasp. He vows to keep it clean, Stiles is only _seventeen_ after all, but when he pulls at his hair, Derek's resolve breaks, and he shoves him back against the couch, groaning, grasping at any bare skin available. Stiles doesn't seem to mind, moaning just as much as him, and he can't resist the desire to grind down, discovering that he's in the same state as Derek.

Derek doesn't plan for it to go like this, doesn't plan to tell Stiles that he wants him, how _much_ he wants him, doesn't plan to lose himself when Stiles tells him that he has him, but it happens anyway. His wolf is _howling_ in victory, and he feels like a teenager when Stiles jerks him forward by his belt loops, almost shocked at how _wrecked_ he is. He doesn't even notice the pelting rain, or the footsteps, until the door slams open, and they immediately recoil from one another, hiding their predicaments.

"Look, I know you guys were probably about to fuck for the first time, and I'm sorry for interrupting, but I got back from the movies with Boyd a half hour ago, and I've been standing in the rain for half of that time. I couldn't stand it anymore," Isaac says, apologetic and soaked to the skin. "Would you like to carry on? I'll go upstairs."

"We're good, Isaac. You kinda ruined the mood," Derek bites out.

"Besides, it's not exactly sexy knowing that you can hear everything," Stiles continues.

"Suit yourselves. You're gonna be the ones with blue balls," Isaac says as he walks up the stairs.

"At least I'll still _have_ balls. Unlike you for much longer," he threatens under his breath, startling a laugh out of Isaac.

"So, Isaac's kind of a boner killer," Stiles comments.

"Don't worry. We'll continue this later. Leave your window unlocked." _Like you always do_ _,_ he thinks darkly. 

"You bet I will."

The rush of overwhelming adoration he feels for Stiles when he winks at Derek prompts him to kiss him, quick and chaste, and it gets even stronger when he wiggles away, blushing.

"I forgot to say, thanks for the bear, Derek," Stiles teases, as he goes to the door.

Derek remembers the 'Be Mine' stitched into the heart, and doesn't remember to articulate himself properly when he asks, "are you?"

"What? Thankful?" Stiles says, frowning. "Yeah-"

"No, no. I meant, are you mine? You know, the bear said 'be mine' so I was just asking if..." Derek trails off, realising how stupid he sounds.

"I get it. Is that your awkward way of asking if i'm your boyfriend now? Or do you mean it in that creepy possessive way?"

"The first one."

"Then yes," he says. "I'm yours."  

 

* * *

 

Stiles promises Derek later that night to throw the teddy away, declaring that while it was sweet, it's way too corny for a teenage boy to keep in his bedroom.

However, when he climbs in the window the next day, it's still there. 


End file.
